The light behind your eyes
by Happymood
Summary: Second World War. Italy is leaving. If he doesn't cry, Germany thinks, he is going to tell Italy that he is going to be stronger without him, to never let that light behind his eyes fade away, but he can't. GerIta R&R!


**A.N. Let's blame My Chemical Romance song for this. "The light behind your eyes" just came up in my playlist, I listened to the words, and they screamed at me to go and write a fanfic now or else-! So, here it is. :) Enjoy!**

[7]

If one has to judge from Germany's face only, no one would tell how scared and hopeless he is really feeling. His expression is as stoic as ever, his eyes icy, cold blue, and there is no smile on his lips as he stares at Italy standing right before him, his chest rising up and down in sync with his breathing.

Between the two of them, Germany thinks, the only one that knows what they are doing is Italy, and no matter how much his boss is shouting in the building behind them, cursing and blaming Italian's cowardice, Germany disagrees and finally understands that they have been wrong all along.

It takes courage to come directly to him and tell him: "I am leaving."

Italy's brother is waiting for him, hidden in the darkness, pistol in hand, in case the SS soldiers suddenly come in the picture. In fact, they both have come uninvited. Germany's boss doesn't know, and Germany has certainly not expected Italy to be there.

"I am leaving." Italy says, raising his hazel eyes and fixing Germany's face in his stare, no mumbling, no begging for forgiveness, no regrets, just a slightly tremble of his lower lip. That's what Germany fixes his eyes on. It took him so much, but then here it is. The realization of how much Italy means to him.

"Feliciano!" Romano shouts, and Italy snaps his attention to his brother, glances at Germany one last time and flees just before the SS discovers them. It is the last time Germany sees Italy, and he thinks that it's better this way.

[5]

Germany studies the maps under his fingers, and then nods at something his men were saying. Two of them hail him and knock their heels together before they leave the meeting room to go where Germany ordered to. They all look so proud of what they are doing, and Germany has been too at first. There is the opportunity of doing something great after so many years of humiliation, but then years pass and everything is blurring around the edges.

One day he looks up in the mirror and sees his reflection staring back at him. It is not the Germany he knows. There is nothing in his eyes. No regrets and no lack of pride either. His expression is void of any emotion, all drained out of him year after year and Germany knows the monster that is feeding from him doesn't seem to have lost his appetite. Sometimes he thinks he is losing his mind.

"Germany!" Italy exclaims and Germany sees him in the mirror. He is smiling brightly and his eyes are sparkling with life. For a moment there is a spark of emotion in Germany's reflection, and that scares him. "I need the bathroom. Are you done?"

Germany turns to him and his heart skips a beat at that smile, at that light behind the other's eyes, which is always there, always making Germany self-conscious.

"Yes, sure." He just says. Italy smiles and their shoulders brush together when Germany makes his way out, their fingers touch for the slightest of seconds, and Germany is suddenly aware this is his clue in which he must realize something important and say something that would make him reconsider his options, but then the moment passes. The door to the bathroom closes, and Germany is alone in the hall again.

Nevertheless, he feels suddenly better.

[8]

"I am leaving." Italy says and Germany stares at him as if trying to imprint Italy's face in his mind. His lower lip is trembling slightly, and after all these years Germany knows it is the first sign that Italy is on the verge of crying. Nevertheless, there is no regret in his actions. Italy knows what he is doing, and Germany doesn't actually blame him.

He has lost a lot. His brother has almost been killed in battle and he is so weak that if he survives the war, there is no guarantee he is going to survive what awaits for them after. His people are dying, and yet they continue this madness as if there is nothing else to live for. Germany had believed his boss, had believed in this War, but he is a nation and he has seen so much that he knows he is going to lose the fight. He is not the only one.

So no, Germany doesn't blame Italy. Contrary to the humans governing him and his brother, he doesn't regard Italy's actions as betrayal. He was going to lose the fight and there was no way out of this.

Germany is going to keep going without Italy. His people could believe that the one getting something out of it would be Germany himself, that maybe without that annoyingly cheerful, chatting nation they will finally win.

Ludwig Beilschmit, though, has already lost, and the only thing that comes out of his mouth is:

"Don't cry."

[3]

"Don't cry, Italy! You are pathetic!" Germany exclaims and Italy flails his arms around like a madman, searching cupboard after cupboard and making that strange sound he emits when he is stressed out.

"But I had a whole stock of pasta here! Where is it?"

Germany looks away and scratches himself behind his ear as if trying to hide the ting on his cheeks. He mutters:

"I sold it."

"What?" Italy asks and Germany knows he has heard him clearly but is too stunned to find something better to say. So Germany crosses his arms, groans and tries to be the serious, more mature one of the two.

"It was too much, Italy!" He exclaims, "People were hungry and we needed the money."

Italy is taken aback by Germany's harshness in his voice, but before the latter could feel guilty about it, Italy's lips form a little 'o' and just looks down at his shuffling feet and mumbles:

"Well… at least some people are not going to die of hunger today, right?" Italy asks, looks at Germany and there is a little smile tugging the corner of his lips. "There is so much despair going on nowadays, right? I hope you didn't ask too much from them…?"

Germany sighs at that and massages his temples with one hand.

"I'll go take some pasta for you." He mumbles, "I did keep some in store. Just in case, mind you."

The smile Italy gives him is blinding.

[4]

Italy sneaking into his bed has almost become a normal thing to Germany. He doesn't even wake up, startled, as he used to be in the very beginning. He is just aware of Italy's smaller body lying next to him, slipping his arms around Germany's waist and putting his forehead between Germany's shoulder blades. A sigh and Italy is deeply asleep. At first Germany had tried to kick him away, had ordered him time after time to go back to his own room, but Italy always waved him off, laughed at him and hug him until Germany gave in.

He used to be so strong, Germany thinks, but then Italy came into the picture and he grew on him in a way no other nation has before. It takes him a while before he accepts the arrangement, a second to realize that Italy sleeping besides him make them both less scared and sad about the bombs resonating in the distance.

[9]

If he doesn't cry, Germany decides he will tell him.

_I wish I could sleep with you tonight, but now that I am not there for you, please never let anyone take that light behind your eyes. You can be strong without me. You already are. In so much darkness, you always managed to burn as bright as the sun._

Germany wants to move forwards, but he hasn't the guts to.

_Remember when we talked about anchors? My people are Germany's anchor… and then there is Ludwig's anchor. _

Yet a tear slowly rolled down Italy's cheek, and Germany closed his mouth shut.

"Feliciano!" Romano shouts.

_I never meant to be yours, right?_

[1]

Germany doesn't know what business has a tomato box in the forest, but considering they were in the middle of a war, it could as sure as hell be a trap. He expects everything: grenades, guns, but not Italy to jumping out of it, tears at the corner of his eyes and going on and on about relatives in some country or another and God knew what because Germany wasn't listening.

Germany could do nothing but stare at the appalling failing of arms and legs and cries and continuous begging the other was doing. It looks so ridiculous that Germany actually starts to feel rather embarrassed for the other's lack of pride. He remembers the stories on Italy's Grandfather and wonders how exactly they came to _this_.

If someone told him that Italy would end up being his first, real best friend, Germany would have thrown all his self-imposed strictness out of the window and would have laughed at them for three hours straight.

No kidding.

[6]

One night Germany suddenly wakes up from a strange dream involving a small girl surrounded by flowers and wearing a fluffy-looking apron. Italy is snoring slightly next to him, and Germany slowly turns around to look at his sleeping figure.

Maybe Germany is too sleepy to do something about it, but he can't keep his lips from tugging slightly upwards. He tentatively reaches for the other's face and runs a finger down the other's temple. He doesn't know how long he remains like this, but he is aware of how much he let his guard down only when Italy suddenly whispers in the dark:

"Bad dreams?"

"Did I wake you?" Germany asks instead, recovering from his surprise almost immediately. Italy shakes his head against Germany's arm. His eyes are closed, but he reaches out and laces their fingers together. It shocks Germany how much they are aware of each other bodies after all this time.

"You lay perfectly still when something bothers you." Italy whispers after a moment of silence, and Germany turns his head and stares at the shadows on the ceiling instead.

"Go back to sleep, Italy." Germany orders, but it comes out more like a sad request than anything else. He feels Italy move, Germany's hand still in his, and Italy manages to hover over Germany's face for a moment before reaching down to kiss him lightly on the lips.

"It's okay, Ludwig." Italy –no, Feliciano says. "This War doesn't make you a bad person. The Ludwig I know is a good man."

"But I am not only Ludwig, am I?" Germany asks and the pain in his voice comes to him unexpected. Feliciano just kisses him again wherever he can reach him, and Ludwig finally gives in and kisses him right back.

[2]

Italy tries to keep the gun in his hold as steady as he can, but it's impossible. Germany can see the other is shaking violently and if he delays shooting a little more, the enemy is going to see them and the whole thing will blow off. So Germany does the next best thing and shoots instead.

The relief in Italy's face is obvious but he does look apologetic when he turns to look at Germany. The taller nation just motions him to stay still and crunch down, gun still in hand. Italy does as told, sure that Germany is angry at him.

Germany never tells him he feels relieved that there is still that something in Italy's eyes when they share looks. He has a feeling that if he lets Italy shoot a man down, this light will just disappear, so Germany takes care of everything else. He can't always protect him, of course, and he knows he should push Italy to be in control sometimes. He suddenly remembers Africa, and decides:

Yes, okay. I guess it's better if I just do it.

[?]

Germany doesn't remember when it happened exactly. The memory is just there, a little bit blurred as if coming right out from a dream. He doesn't know if it's night or it's morning, the only thing he is sure of is that Italy is with him, singing some Italian song and happily roasting something on the fire. So, yeah, maybe it is night after all.

The festive mood doesn't last much. The crackle of the fire fills the sudden silence, and Germany looks up from what he was eating to Italy's bothered face.

"Do you ever hate me, Germany?" Italy asks and it's so sudden that Germany doesn't know what to say. For a moment he wonders if he should just answer yes, but the moment passes and Italy continues:

"I mean, I am so different from you! You are doing just fine with all this war stuff-!" Germany feels suddenly insulted that Italy calls such a serious thing "war stuff" but doesn't comment on it, "Of course, I –or rather, my boss has some goals in mind as well, otherwise I wouldn't be here, but would you rather have never agreed on me being your ally?"

It is a serious question, and Italy doesn't usually ask serious questions, so Germany takes his time answering him. He wonders if he should say yes to everything. After all this is what everyone thinks.

"You are rather a hassle, Italy." Germany says and he is honest, but his heart does skip a beat and he feels like laughing when he sees the pain and plain acceptance in Italy's eyes. He doesn't want to laugh because he is a sadist, rather because he feels like having told a pretty good joke. He wants to laugh at the Germany that thinks he is still in control.

"I guess it's good you are so sure about what you want and what you need. I feel so lost sometimes." Italy says and he is brutally honest. Germany wonders if he should tell him to keep these thoughts to himself, because they are at war and everything could be used against him if the time comes. What he says instead is:

"Especially if there is no pasta around."

Italy is taken aback but then he bursts out laughing, and Germany smiles a little bit because he can see that Italy has catch up and knows that the blond man doesn't really mean everything he says.

"I guess pasta is my anchor then?" Italy asks smiling, and Germany just snorts.

"You are going to be a loser all your life if what anchors you down and gives meaning to your life is food."

"Food is important." Italy says and he is serious, "But I guess you are right. Food is not my anchor."

"A nation's anchor is their people." Germany reasons. Italy hums something and shuffles his feet. "It's the same for every nation."

"But what about the human in us?" Italy asks and it is unexpected. Germany is reminded of Italy's first question and he feels like running away. There is something in the answer that scares him more than War and Famine.

"Feliciano." Germany says rather dryly, "It's late and you are not making any sense anymore. Not that you ever do when you are hungry."

Italy smiles and he suddenly stands up, walks towards Germany and kneels to his eye level. Germany stares at Italy's bright smile, at the light burning behind the other hazel's eyes, and he is too stunned to move when Italy leans down and kisses him on the lips. It's not the first time Italy kisses him, but it is the first time he kisses him on the lips, and Germany is too shocked to move.

He wants to say something.

My anchor is you, is too cheesy.

I love you, is too obvious. At least to him.

So he just kisses back.

[10]

Italy and Romano disappear from sight the moment the soldiers make their entrance. They are shocked to see Germany there alone, but they hail just the same. Germany nods at them and looks up at the greying sky. He feels like he has lost something, that crumble of sanity that was holding him into place.

His boss is still shouting orders in the building behind him, and Germany can perfectly hear every word. He doesn't care anymore. Ludwig doesn't care anymore. He is tired and wants to sleep.

_The end._


End file.
